Undocumented
by kidscanfly
Summary: A series of mostly angsty oneshot ficlets containing an impressive amount of spoilers. The chapters center around Souji, Chie, Yosuke, and Adachi, as well as the tensions that tie them all together. And some other characters are mentioned too.
1. Handwriting: Adachi, Souji

**I'm sorry to say that this a misleading start. This first chapter features a story that's much longer than any other, and to me, feels a tad out of it... BUT OH WELL.**

**This chapter takes place right before/during the bad ending...**

**EDIT: Thanks for the corrections, Pectus Noctem :D  
**

**Handwriting  
**

He was standing outside Adachi's apartment door, waiting to snap out of it. It wasn't necessarily normal of him to be here, but he had arranged an appointment. It was raining, as it always did in Inaba, with fog seeming to smother everyone trapped in that dismal town, and the gray-haired youth couldn't bring himself to ring the doorbell or knock.

Why was he even here? He clenched his teeth in frustration.

He was here on business. That was all. He raised his knuckle, knocking three times. He could hear clumsy footsteps, and the ruffled young detective opened the door, his jacket and tie somewhere in his apartment. He wasn't startled too much. Souji had, after all, called ahead of time. "Souji-san, come in," was the cheery reply, and the younger man had to smile politely back.

The door was shut quietly behind them as Souji found his way into a messy (and cramped) living room. He could see various beer cans on the stained wood floors and coffee table, as well as some hastily hidden magazines under the couch cushion. A decent-size television took up one side, while a shabby couch was placed adjacently; it was a true bachelor's room.

Adachi motioned him to sit on a clean spot on the floor at the coffee table; he took the spot opposite.

"I was kinda surprised to get your call," the detective said, ruffling his hair, "You're leaving tomorrow, and with Nanako gone… I'd think you'd be busy doing other things." Souji shrugged, trying to calm his increasing heartbeat. It wasn't nervousness; he was feeling uneasy. It was a rather short-notice visit, but he really had to get this thing cleared up.

"Actually," Souji said quietly, thankful his voice didn't waver, "I stumbled across something while packing," The detective leaned forward as Souji brought out a "Get Well Soon" card that he had found amongst Nanako's things. It had been amongst others, but this one had been from the young detective, and had been easy to spot, what with his large, bold handwriting. Adachi's eye seemed to glitter at the memory of the card. Souji was unable to tell if it was genuine.

"I had no idea you had written to her," the youth said, sliding the card across the table. Adachi picked it up carefully and seemed to really relish the card and the memories that came with it. Meanwhile, Souji took out his real reason for being there: the first warning letter. He placed it on the table, making Adachi stop from his trip to memory lane. He picked up this letter, reading the one sentence aloud. "'don't rescue anymore'…? Was this letter prior to the one Dojima-san took from you?" Souji nodded, staring straight into Adachi's face. His goofy grin was unmoving, his eyes betraying nothing.

Souji took the letters from Adachi, juxtaposing them on the table. The detective looked at the papers, and Souji saw it slip; the smile was gone for just a moment as he saw the clench of his jaw. An alarm rang in Souji's head.

"You're handwriting is very surprising, characteristic-wise," Souji said calmly, watching Adachi's mask seemingly crumble by the second, "It's very aggressive, and your strokes kinda go all over the place." Souji interlaced his fingers, placing his hands on the table. "This warning letter was written similarly, with the same amount of force. The writing is rushed and hard." Souji's eyes locked with Adachi's, and he could see a stirring in his face; something was emerging. "Do you see these similarities too?"

The two of them sat in frozen silence as time slowed to a crawl. Adachi made no movements or sound. Had he upset him? Had he been wrong? But then there was a small noise from the detective's throat. "What are you trying to say, Souji-san?" The voice was uncomfortably fake. A chill ran up his spine as Adachi's expression did a complete shift within a millisecond, and the warm smile had disappeared. He was dead serious, his jaw set as they suddenly made eye contact, and Souji felt like he'd been hit with a force of maliciousness so strong he blinked in surprise.

It was his eyes.

He'd never seen that raw emotion from the detective; it felt as if he was laughing menacingly on the inside. There was a deeper, hidden hate in those eyes, so unfeeling and uncaring and sadistic that Souji found himself at his long awaited conclusion: Adachi was guilty. The younger man steeled himself; he could see the truth unraveling.

"Have you told any of your little friends about this theory of yours?" The question was said through Adachi's façade. Souji did not dare give an answer. Adachi sighed dramatically, as if he was wounded, before standing abruptly. Souji did the same on instinct, reflex. They both stood facing each other, both guarded, and both ready to pounce. Adachi's face was morphing into a wide smirk as his eyes lit up in an inhuman way.

"I'm proud of you, Souji," Adachi said loudly, voice now obnoxious and dripping with sarcasm, "You figured it out! None of your idiot chums could, and neither could your jerk-off uncle, but _you_! You solved the 'case!'" Adachi bowed, mocking him without shame. Souji stepped back, alarmed at this new turn of character.

"Then again," the detective said darkly, "Out of all the hilarious shit that's on my special little TV program, yours is the only one 'unaired', isn't it?" The silver-haired youth narrowed his eyes at the other. "Did you kill Mayumi Yamano and Saki Konishi?" Adachi shrugged playfully. "I took no part in their death. All I did was throw them into a television. Nothing more."

Souji involuntary clenched his fist at Adachi's sick, proud smile. "Aw, Souji-san, don't be like that," Adachi said, walking slowly to circle him, "You don't seem to understand people the way I do, so here's a free lesson. When you work for shitty people everyday, and deal with shitty attitudes, and you begin to understand how people work. Those friends of yours don't know anything! And all they do is think of themselves, leaning on you like you're some kind of leader as you guys play detective. But all of them were rotten inside and deserved to die. All except you. And everyone who watches you guys on the Midnight Channel is just as bad, if not worse. Out of jealousy and morbid human curiosity, they want to know everything you gotta hide.

"But the truth is, Souji-san, is that you're different. No one can mark you or dig deeper, because you are special. Just like me." Adachi and Souji were circling each other now. The younger man's jaw was clenched and grinding like a cheese grater. "How exactly are we alike?"

"You don't think I've been aware of your unique talents? I'm aware of your little "persona" powers, but somehow I can tell you're special, better than those fools who follow you. But guess what! You and I have been given the same gifts. I've seen it all through the television." He held out his hand, as if to offer a handshake. "We are like lost kin, eh Souji-san?" With a swift step, the gray-haired student wound his fist and let go, bringing it down hard and quick. He missed, and Adachi pulled a gun from behind him, where it had probably been tucked into his pants somewhere. He shot, missed, and moved to the side as Souji made to elbow him in the back. Adachi swiftly made a grab for the younger man's arm and brought him crashing down to the floor, unable to move as the older man pinned his arms and legs down. Adachi laughed wickedly, his cackles echoing in the desolate (and cramped) living room floor as a pair of handcuffs made their way around Souji's wrists. "No need to struggle, Souji-san," He placed the gun's muzzle roughly against the student's temple, cocking it.

"Are you going to listen, now?" It was not a request; Souji tried to wretch his arms free, but froze as Adachi pressed the gun more roughly to his skull with a harsh, "Nuh uh!" He stopped struggling; glare set on the man he thought had been someone he could trust. Boy, had he been mistaken; he could see now, all those shady moments where Adachi had been out of character. He'd suspected nothing. All the little slips in his smiles, the bits and pieces he let slip about the murder cases, the frequent visits, the blank stare that he'd have when looking out the window at the rain in Junes… It all seemed so obvious now. He'd played them all. He wished he'd figured out sooner, before Nanako had to die, before Teddie left, before his time here had run out.

"So now that you know, Souji-san, what are you going to do? Turn me into the police? Tell them I've been throwing people into TVs? Who would believe you and your little gang of teeny-boppers? I'm a detective!"

"You're a liar…"

"A great one, though!" was his arrogant reply. "You've run out of time, Souji-san. Even if you tell your uncle, he's been too depressed to comprehend anything, let alone a betrayal of this magnitude. You might even send him into a heart attack, and wouldn't that be a shame. No, you can't even get your friends to go after me when you leave, because they need you. They can't enter the TV without you or that bear, and since he's gone, there'll be no one to take them through." Adachi stood, leaving the silver-haired boy to lie on the floor. He flopped onto the couch, grabbed a beer can from a cooler hidden behind the couch, and flipped on the television. "I'll give you some time to decide whether or not I'm being realistic or not. Then again, if you decide not, I can just shoot you in the face now and get it over with…" He let out a snicker as he laid his feet onto the youth's back. Souji could do nothing but lie on floor as the killer he'd been searching for turned to a porn channel, as if he wasn't keeping a young man in his living room and using him as a foot stool. The nerve of this guy to just leave him there perplexed Souji almost as much as his sudden need to watch TV. Souji kept his eye on the glowing numbers from the clock, and he waited for several minutes, before muttering darkly under his breath, "Fine," Adachi turned off the television, looking down at Souji from the couch. He kept his gun aimed as he approached him, squatting down to talk to Souji's "level". He placed the gun firmly against Souji's forehead, dead on. "Now that we've come to some sort of agreement, I'll let you go. No need keeping you here when you could be packing your bags for tomorrow, right?"

Adachi undid the handcuffs and held out his hand to help the younger man up. Souji ignored the offer, his face making his bitterness obvious. "How do you know I won't skip out on the train?" Adachi smiled, his smile toothy and forced, before bringing his gun back up to meet Souji between the eyes. The high school student did not falter. Adachi smirked. "I could shoot you in the face right now. Then I'd throw your body through my TV. I could also go back to your house and shoot your uncle, not to mention all your little pals." Souji hated this, being unable to do anything in the face of Nanako's true killer. He had no idea how Adachi and Namatame were connected, or how it came to be that the delivery man did the kidnappings, but Adachi had been the first domino, and that was all that mattered. And he couldn't do anything about it, and it killed him inside. He couldn't protect them from afar, and without Teddie, there'd be no way to get inside the TV World if Adachi were to run.

Souji thrust out his hand, teeth grinding. "Don't you dare hurt my friends or uncle when I'm gone," he said darkly, "Or I will come back to kill you myself." Adachi smiled, his old self back to its original state, as they shook hands. Souji felt he was making a deal with the devil.

Adachi lead him out to the door, his gun placed firmly at the square of Souji's back, his smile still never faltering. Swinging the door open, Souji let himself out as the gun was put away, and once again they were eye to eye.

"You'll 'come back to you me yourself'?" Adachi mimicked, laughing as he said it. The younger man wanted to deck him in the face so badly. "Well, Souji-san, I wouldn't count on it," He slammed the door, leaving Souji to stand there in the rain and fog, the young detective's maniacal laughter still ringing in his ears.


	2. Sick: Yosuke, Souji

**This is my interpretation of how this scene should have played out.**

**Post-Nanako's kidnapping**

**Sick  
**

Yosuke had never seen that house so dead. It was amazing how the absence of such a small child could really haunt a house forever. It was early in the morning, the day after Nanako's abduction, and the group was supposed to meet at their secret headquarters and rescue her from the TV world. He knocked on the door, not surprised to hear there wasn't an answer. The door was unlocked, and so he let himself in.

"Souji!" No one answered. Yosuke immediately headed toward his room, where the door was slightly ajar. He was careful to tread lightly on the stairs, and opened the door even more cautiously, only to fall backwards in shock.

His room looked like it had been ransacked. His shelf had somehow managed to collapse onto the carpet, his couch now placed haphazardly in the middle of the room. His clothes were half out of his closet, his desk chair toppled over and his television screen down on what used to be his coffee table, and Yosuke could imagine Souji shaking the TV in frustration until it had fallen off the bureau. If he had been him, he knew he would've been up all night with his head through the TV, calling Nanako's name.

Books, magazines and various pencils, pens, and CDs littered the carpet, and in the far corner where the futon was supposed to be, he could see a bundle of blankets placed hastily on a crumpled figure. Souji's silver hair peeked out from the mess, his form wrapping around itself as if to shield itself from the cold and the fuzzy TV static and loneliness and silence that filled the house. Souji was shivering, his face looking as if he was experiencing something unpleasant. Yosuke could never have imagined this young man in this state; the one guy he looked up to in this rare moment of weakness and pity. The orange-haired boy couldn't bring himself to leave him like this; he waded through the debris, before kneeling in front of his best friend, who's eyes sprang open at the touch of his hand. His eyes were puffy, his knuckles scabbed where they had collided with something hard. It took a moment for him to realize it was morning, and Yosuke stepped back.

"You better get changed and stuff. I'll be waiting by the stairs."

"Yeah," was the simple, muted reply, barely audible from the silver-haired youth. Yosuke bit the inside of his cheek as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. He could only imagine how hard it must've been for Souji to sleep last night. How could he; his uncle was in the hospital and his young cousin had been kidnapped just hours before. The guilt and worry and emotional stress must be so heavy on his mind and heart that he had to release it through a physical outlet. To see someone he so admired and respected in this state at the hands of such an awful turn of events made Yosuke want to retch.

He could not help the rush of bile coming up his throat as he rushed to the Dojima bathroom.


	3. Winning: Chie, Souji, Yosuke

**What we didn't see during the camping trip...**

**Winning**

Chie stirred in her small space within the tent. The air felt humid to her, and it didn't help that Yukiko was squishing her against Souji's breathing frame. She honestly didn't understand how Yukiko moved so much in her sleep; it was just baffling. Yosuke was on Souji's other side, quiet as a mouse. Why was she the only one having trouble sleeping here? She jumped a little in her gym clothes as Souji rolled over, facing her now with a peaceful face. She heaved a sigh of relief, thankful he hadn't woken up. Why was she the one sleeping by a boy anyway?

As she stared at him, she realized she really did like his face; it was clean cut, uncomplicated. She studied him, regardless of the fact that she'd memorized his facial features long before this point, but it was something she found herself doing in class too. Everything he did she took notice of; her eyes were like puppets on a string connected to his movements. The way he held his pencil, the ease at which he took notes, the silly habit of wiping his paper meticulously when there was nothing to write, and the grace at which he stood from his desk at the end of the day: all of these small details made her appreciate him more and more every day.

She blinked at the sound of Yukiko muttering in her ear, "Where's the water hose…" before she turned her back toward her. Chie suddenly became very aware of how warm it was in the tent with all four of them there. Souji's face and body were merely inches from her own, and everything was suddenly very claustrophobic, why?! She sat up abruptly, unzipping her jacket slightly to let in some air. She was sweating like mad, a cold sweat that chilled her spine. She glanced back at Souji, then Yosuke and Yukiko. None of them had stirred. Hugging her knees, Chie wondered when she began having these feelings for Souji. She wasn't really one for silly crushes or anything to do with romance and togetherness…

She supposed it was just the kind of person he was. She was pretty sure Yukiko was starting to like him to, and neither of them had ever really had a boyfriend before. The thought unnerved her. She looked back at Souji's sleeping face, unaware and unconcerned about silly things like this. Chie felt totally out of her element when near him; it was nerve-wracking.

Biting her lip, she twisted her body, trying to position herself comfortably without touching anything. She practically was on top of him, but her face felt so red she could barely think. What was she doing?

She wanted so badly to take him for herself. Yukiko could have any guy she wanted, so why did she have to have this one too? She resented herself at the moment for thinking such a thought, but knew it was really how she felt. That other part that she thought she had conquered and accepted was still there. If there was anything she'd want to win over Yukiko, it was Souji. She had become close with Souji first, and it bothered her that someone else could snatch him away.

She leaned down, closer and closer to his face, until they were mere centimeters apart. She wanted to so bad. She wanted it! She wanted it to happen right now! But she felt this lump catch in her throat and she hesitated, one minute, then two, before carefully retreating and lying back in her designated space. A quick break in her breath let out an anguished, almost inaudible sob as she tried to recompose herself. She calmed her breathing, the way she did during training, and focused on kung fu movies she wanted to rent. She wanted this night to just be over with so she and Yukiko could just leave. She wanted to forget she had almost done that. She wasn't a coward who snuck in a kiss in the dark. She was stronger than that. She was stronger…

...

Yosuke stared into the darkness of the tent, waiting for Chie's breath to finally become steady and sleep, his heart twisting harshly at the thought of what he's just seen. He clutched as his gym clothes tighter as he waited for morning to come and take away his hatred and jealousy toward his best friend.


	4. Guilt: Adachi, Nanako

**What we never saw in the hospital...**

**Guilt  
**

It wasn't often that Adachi felt the like he'd done something wrong. In fact, he always felt like everyone _else_ was in the wrong, but never him. It was raining outside, as it always did in Inaba, probably two in the morning, but as he listened to the rain pellet the window behind him, the moonlight casting shadows upon the small hospital bed before him, he had the strangest feeling as if he had made a mistake. He could see the nurses walking to and fro, and the constant complaints about the fog. Stupid, stupid people; they all deserved the fate they had been given.

Nanako still wasn't moving. She lay deathly still, unable to tell who was by her or if anyone was there at all. She was motionless. Like death. A gnawing feeling rose in his chest as he glanced at the girl's pained expression. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, to rest his head on his interlaced hands, scrunching his face in an attempt to decrease his uneasiness. It was one of those rare moments that he didn't enjoy the pain and suffering of someone else, and the part he hated most was that he had no idea why he _didn't_ feel that way right now.

The life support machine seemed to echo in the silence that seemed to engulf the hospital.


	5. Train Wreck Part 1: Souji, Yosuke, Chie

**This story will have a couple of parts to it.**

**Train Wreck Part 1  
**

Yosuke sometimes wondered if Souji was some sort of dumbass. He normally didn't act like it, obviously, but sometimes he just didn't catch the most obvious things.

It was one of those happy days where Daisuke and Kou would offer to treat the two persona-users to some food. Those days were always filled with dumb humor that everyone laughed about until their sides hurt. Those were days where he sometimes forgot about the murders and all the craziness happening around them.

The bell from the door rings as the doors open, and Chie walks in, immediately noticing the group. She chats for a while, before ordering multiple dishes to go (she says her family wants a beef dinner tonight). Yosuke watches as Souji and Daisuke start chatting with her again, mostly about sports ands training. He can see Kou, who's affection for her is already widely known, and he has to admit that Chie is not the brightest bulb either.

She leaves with her orders, and Daisuke catches Kou following her with his eyes. "Way to be obvious, man,"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!"

Souji, continues eating, as if the conversation doesn't interest him. Yosuke deeply respects him, but the urge to punch him in the face rises in his chest.

"Hey, Souji, wanna help me set Kou on a date with Satonaka?"

"W-WHAT?" Of course Kou objects.

Souji laughs as Dasiuke continues to tease his best friend.

"Sure, sounds like fun,"

It was a simple answer, and they spend the rest of their time forming a rather simple plan, but Yosuke can already see the inevitable train wreck.


	6. Train Wreck Part 2: Souji, Yosuke, Chie

**Two of two.**

**Train Wreck Part 2  
**

They were waiting for Souji to bring Chie to the roof, where Yosuke, Daisuke and Kou were pacing. Kou was wringing his hands, mumbling about rejection and cowardice. Daisuke seemed confident enough, but he knew better. Souji had been chosen, despite Yosuke's offer, to fetch her, since she would follow him without even a drop of distrust. But what the guys didn't know was that it was because she liked him. What was she thinking now, as they made their way up here? She was probably wondering if he was going to ask her out. She had no idea it was all mixed up.

The train wreck was coming.

The doors opened, and Daisuke immediately grabbed the organ-haired boy's shirt and dragged him behind a cylinder. Kou made a bee-line for her as Souji made a quick escape to our location. Her face was wrought with confusion. Yosuke felt like his heart was cracking as Kou began to long and uncomfortable confession. Her face was dropping, and it was obvious that Kou was picking up on it. She was glancing around, to where our feet were clearly visible.

"Does she see us?" was Daisuke's stupid question.

"Yeah," Yosuke said dully, too busy to answer; Chie face was contorting with realization at what Souji had done. He could feel his own heart breaking at the sight of her. She was breaking inside; everything inside her was beginning to shatter.

She quietly rejected Kou, a forced smile spreading across her face, before running off. She was probably going to go find herself a place to weep, all her hopes falling from her face onto a mess on the floor. It was awful to think about.

Kou ran after her, and Daisuke after him, and then Souji and Yosuke stood alone on the roof, and it felt extremely awkward for him. Souji was staring at the doorway where the three had gone, face hardened it what might have been puzzlement. Or something a bit more profound.

"You're kinda a jerk, you know that?" Souji turned at Yosuke's words, face still hard like stone. "How so?"

"How could you go along with this? You must have some sort of idea as to why she reacted that way!"

Yosuke's voice was rising. Souji didn't answer, which angered the orange-haired boy even more. He felt that overwhelming pride and respect for Souji disappear for only a split second, and so he took advantage of this gap where such a solid barrier used to be.

"She _loves_ you, Souji!" his voice seemed to project and echo across the town as the wind howled around them. His element poured around them, engulfing them in the blowing gusts. Yosuke made a grab for Souji's shirt, holding a good fistful. "She loves you, and yet you took her hand and convinced her to come up here alone, only to hand her off to another person, when it should've been you! And you're no idiot! You know that! You knew and you did it anyway!"

Souji's face had not changed, and he grabbed Yosuke's hand and wrenched his hand away.

"You know why I don't ask her, Yosuke?" Souji said, voice clear and unwavering, so unlike his best friend's, "I don't ask her because I know that it should have been _you_. I don't ask her, out of respect of you, because you've liked her far longer than she's liked me, I'm sure." Yosuke stared at him.

"B-But she-"

"You need to get over your inferiority complex, Yosuke," Souji said, making his way toward the door, "I'm not some invincible superhero. I'm no better than you, the guys, or anyone else."

Yosuke watched him disappear down the stairs, and felt his fist clench in frustration, biting his lip to keep himself from crying. In the end, _he_ had been the dumbass.


	7. Mirrors: Souji

**Mirror**

Every morning Souji wakes up, throws off his clothes and takes a hot shower. When he steps out from the stall, dripping onto the floor like he's melting, he looks into the mirror and sees himself amongst the steam and the humidity that looks suspiciously like fog, and he stares at his reflection until it smirks back at him, eyes glowing yellow as it begins telling him awful things. It mentions how big a pussy Yosuke can be, always whining for Saki Konishi, as if he couldn't be any lamer than he already is. It says Chie's so clingy and dependant, pathetic and lost. It claims Yukiko is so dumb for liking him so easily, how Rise seems so fake, despite how she tries not to be, and how Kanji needs to grow some balls when it comes to the dumbest things, while Naoto needs to get that stick out from her flat little butt. Shadow Souji wants real Souji to know that he thinks they're better than all those dumbass friends of his, and that they're so easily infatuated with someone like him, the mysterious and charming city boy. And Shadow Souji wonders how much they'd give for their leader, and then laughs as he screams that they'd "give their worthless, shitty lives for me!" He snickers, waiting for the real Souji to react.

But Shadow Souji is at a disadvantage, because none of these things are anything Souji himself hasn't thought at some point, no matter how much he regrets it. Those thoughts were there at some point, and he won't bother denying it. So instead he smiles at his reflection, warm and accepting.

"Good morning to you too, Souji-san," he says to the reflection in the mirror, as if it were a roommate he happened to share bathroom time with. The Shadow says nothing in response, it's eyes glinting in the familiar gold tinge as he goes about his business and leaves, making sure to leave any doubts behind with that other self.

Shadow Souji glowers at the door where the real one has disappeared, and waits for night to fall, so he might remind his other self of his inner demons as he brushes his teeth.


	8. Dreams: Chie, Adachi

**Well, she did wanna be a cop. And who's the only cop she knows?**

**Dreams  
**

Chie adjusts her badge with pride as she gets ready for work. She heads straight to the Dojima residence, bathed in glorious sunlight promising new days, hoping to catch Nanako before she heads to Yasogami High. Before she has a chance to knock, and Nanako answers the door, already dressed in her uniform. She says hello while whizzing past, claiming to be late, and Dojima comes up behind her, coat slung over his shoulder.

"Ready, Satonaka?"

"Yessir, boss!"

She dreamt of being with Souji forever, growing old, having kids, reminicing on what has passed. She now dreams of being a police officer and detective, working to enforce the law and bring justice to the people, seeking the truth buried underneath all the lies. Being closest to his family than any of their other friends is just an extra coin in her hat, and she is at peace with that.

…

Across the street, in the dark alleys of the houses, within the perimeter of his house arrest, a figure in a yellow raincoat watches as what used to be his life walks away from him, biting his lip until it bleeds. The jealousy and feeling of loss, and being a _loser_, wells up inside the individual, and he wonders why he misses being some jerk's gopher.


	9. Practice: Dojima, Nanako

**Practice**

BANG.

She's a terrible shot, but then again it's Nanako's first time shooting anything. The Summer Festival was a great opportunity for bonding and such with his daughter, but something called to him to let her play one of the carnival games; the one where you shot the duck with a cork gun, you know?

It was target practice, simple and uncomplicated. He was a cop after all; he knew she needed to learn this talent sooner or later. He had many enemies, and he could only hope he'd have prepared her enough by the time an enemy decided to act. If he couldn't be there to protect her (and his biggest fear was that he couldn't), he had to make sure she could defend herself.

He thought he might pull Souji from his friends to do the same…


	10. Static: Souji

**A buildup to "Sick" kinda.**

**Static  
**

He wondered when he had decided that he was invincible.

As Souji walked into the empty house that awful night of November 5th, he couldn't help but go straight to bed, yet even as he laid there, looking at his ceiling as the rain pelted harder and harder, he couldn't bear to sleep.

Nanako was there, on the other side, amongst the fog and evil, all alone. He hadn't been able to protect her. He glanced at his unchanging TV screen, and though nothing appeared, he could see her writhing in pain, the same way Saki Konishi had. The sound of static looped in Souji's mind as Nanako continued to cry out in his mind's eye. He could picture his uncle dying in that hospital bed, and was beginning to imagine all the horrible things Nametame might be doing to his cousin. His mind ran wild with thoughts and worries, the deafening, harsh static never leaving his ears.

When Yukiko had been taken, he could still see the look of hysteria on Chie's face. He still saw the look of shame and guilt that's forever carved into Yosuke's features since Saki Konishi's death. Yukiko had been so worried over Kanji's disappearance, and Rise's disappearance hadn't shaken him almost at all, for he had no idea who she really was. Even Naoto's kidnapping had made Kanji the most upset he's ever seen. Yet none of those times compared to how he felt right now. It had all become too close, much too personal. His apathy was now shattered, and for the first time since this mystery began, it was all starting to hit home, deep in his heart, where he held everything dear to him.

The sound of static crashed around him through the night, until he couldn't stand it anymore and trashed his television, but he still was unable to sleep. He still felt so angry and worried over the absence of his extended family.

Souji couldn't believe it when he realized how wet his face had become.

Yet the static still lingered, even more noticeable than before. He couldn't think. It was like a heavy, dense fog in his mind that seemed as if it would never leave.


	11. Weak: Adachi, Chie

**Chie and Adachi. I'm not even sure where this one came from. Be warned.**

**This is also somewhat of an elaboration on the "Dreams" chapter. Only more in depth, Adachi-centric, and informative of what's going on.**

**Weak  
**

Adachi sometimes thought that out of all Souji's little friends, Chie is the weakest. Not in the physical sense (he still has some rough bruises where she'd landed some ferocious kicks during the battle in Magatsu Inaba) but in the way she acted socially. Adachi's lip quirked at the thought as he heard a click at the door of his locked apartment, swept clean and free of any objects of suspicious nature. Hell, his little bachelor pad was cleaner than a Christmas card right now.

Chie walked in, dressed in her police uniform, her badge flashing in the sunlight before being snuffed out by the dimness of the apartment. "Hey, Satonaka," Adachi drawls form his place at the couch, not even offering her a glance. She ignores him of course, while he continues to look at the empty space where his television used to be.

She was not here to see him. She was here to do her job; weekly visits to ensure his probation under house arrest went smoothly. Of course, she and the other brats would've preferred him in jail, but with a substantial lack of evidence, despite his own confession, they did what they could outside of court legislation. Not that he really minded though; he didn't have to deal with dumbass people anymore, and he certainly didn't have to get Dojima his damn coffee every five minutes. That was now Satonaka's job.

He didn't think the uniform suited her, really. Girls rarely look good in suits in his opinion. He watched her check all his drawers, check the fridge, then walk past him across the living room space to where he slept. She was checking for weapons, dangerous objects of any kind, or something like that. He wanted to shout out, "Why bother?" but he kept his mouth shut.

She came back out, before gesturing for him to get up from the couch. He did so, straightening his tie as he stood, back hunched in its usual fashion. She overturned the cushions, making sure nothing was hiding down under his couch. God forbid there be some dangerous coins or pieces of fluff…

He smirked as the sadist in him stepped forward. "How's Souji been doing?"

Her hand from for a millisecond, but she continued on, not bothering to give him an answer.

"What?" Adachi asked, bring forth his casual, innocent façade, "No calls? Not even a small text message? No letters with endearing content?" She continued to remain silent, now separating the couch from the wall so she might check there was nothing behind it.

"Hmm," Adachi muttered to himself, though he made sure it was loud enough for her to hear. He leaned forward toward her crouched form, taking a pondering stance, but clearly meaning to taunt her. "The other day while heading for Junes, I swore I heard that Yosuke guy and the Amagi girl chattering about something funny he'd sent them. Did he just _forget_ to send anything to you or something?" She stood abruptly, pulling out her gun and cocking it, aiming it at Adachi's face. "You don't know a damn thing, Adachi. Don't you dare speak of Souji Seta. Ever." He stared at her face, how contorted and angered and _ugly_ it was. She didn't have that exotic charm like the Amagi girl, or the naturally cute features like Risette. She didn't even have Shirogane's rumored bustline. She was plain, if not muscular, but still not pretty.

He stared at her through half-lidded eyes as he spoke. "Cut the crap, Satonaka. I know damn well that Souji would much prefer a classical beauty like _Yukiko_ than some wannabe tomboy-" She quickly shot at the floor less than a centimeter by his foot. She'd obviously been spending some hours at target practice.

She was so weak.

From what he could tell, she was the only one who hadn't really moved on from their little internal battles in the television. Shirogane's gender had been known for quite some time now. Risette had gone back to showbiz with her bullshit "new image". The Amagi girl had obviously decided to inherit the inn. That Tatsumi punk wannabe was selling dolls at the textile shop. Even Yosuke had gotten over Konishi it seemed. But jealousy was a demon that ate at you forever. Perhaps it had been her constant presence around Yukiko that never let the wound heal, or maybe the fact that she still hadn't been asked out yet (or maybe she had, but it was only losers who can't "top" their girls). Or maybe it was just because she had probably tried so hard, and yet Yukiko still had won Seta. Who knew?

Her esteem was easily the frailest out of all those damn kids. And thus, she was the weakest link, and the one tiny crack in a door that he could use to his advantage to escape this damn town and these dumbass people. Adachi considered himself a magnificent liar with an impeccable ability to read people accurately. If he played his cards right…

She was turning to leave. He let his pleasant expression drop as she made a grab for the door handle.

"How many calls _have_ you gotten, Satonaka?" She turned the handle. "Is he really worth it, waiting all this time for a call that isn't coming? Is he really that much of a saint to put all your faith in him when he obviously doesn't care as much about as you he does your other friends. If he were really as nice a guy as you say, wouldn't you have gotten some sort of contact by now? I wonder what more sleazy, desperate bitches he's got back in the city-"

Damn! She'd lunged at him, and now they were struggling and rolling around on his hardwood floor. She was landing some decent punches, but he was blocking an unusual amount of them. She wasn't focused. Things were clouding he mind. He attempted to gain control, rolled over so that he was on top, looking down at her ugly, _ugly_ face. But as soon as he was there, she immediately knew where to aim, and made a swift jerk of the knee to his solar plexus, making him loosen his grip on her.

He should have known he couldn't overpower her here, in reality, without a gun. She stood up frantically, adjusting her tie as she made a grab for her gun, only to find it wasn't there. Adachi chuckled as she gawked at him; he was dangling her gun on his pinky. Dumb bitch.

But he didn't duck fast enough as she whipped her leg in an explosive roundhouse kick, which subsequently made him loose his grip on his preferred bargaining chip. He fell to the floor, cradling the side of his face. He could feel the imprints of her shoelaces. She grabbed her gun, and keeping it steady with both hands as she aimed it at him, her foot on his back. "YOU WILL NOT TALK!" He almost snorted at how desperate and angry she was, when she was just running away from the truth. He wanted to be malicious to this naïve, dumb, arrogant, _ugly_ girl. Knock her upside the head and give her a mental breakdown. He felt the rapid urge to confirm all her worst fears and crush her until she would have gladly asked him to throw her into a television.

And so he spoke the killing strike.

"I'd forgotten that you like to be on top," It was a hit way far down below the belt. She really froze, eyes wide in shock and horror and shame.

Back in the day, while those dumbshit kids who watch the midnight channel wanted so badly to see Yukiko's "search for a hot stud", Adachi had known all along that what he really wanted to see was the rescue team's futile effort. And the TV had gladly switched for him, and he had seen Chie's feelings in all its glory (he had wished he had realized this trick before so he could have witnessed Hanamura's whiny, little pity-fest too). She had almost died laughing in his living room at the creature that had formed on his television screen; it was too ironic that the most modest and inexperienced brat had the dominatrix creep forth from their ego.

And even now, as she pressed him into the floor with the tremendous force of her left foot alone, he could see it in her, that other self, cackling and enjoying being the one with power and control. Now if only he could utilize it properly to severe the unbreakable bond of trust that Souji had instilled in his stupid little brat pack.

"You know, Chie," he said, using her name for perhaps the first time in all he could remember, "Why settle for a chump like Seta when you could have someone so much better, who isn't a douche." She did not speak. She was glaring at him, but not moving. "Maybe go for someone that actually notices you? I don't know who the hell that would be, but it'd definitely not Souji Seta." Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, suspicion evident in her tone of voice, "What are you playing at?"

"All I'm saying is that you're obviously just working for the sake of keeping your mind off him, when he's chilling in the city, not even stopping to wonder if he's remembered your name yet." She made a sound of disgust as she shoved him away with her foot. He balanced himself as he put himself in a seated position on the floor. Had his jumble of lies and truth worked? Had he confused her? He'd probably just shaken her resolution a bit. He couldn't really tell right now. She turned to leave, wrenching open the door a little too hard.

"By the way, Satonaka," Adachi called after her, nonchalant grin adorning his features, "You've got some _great_ abs. Hard as a rock under there, huh." She slammed the door with such ferocity that he felt his floor boards squeak in the silence of his apartment. Sighing, he stood, stretched his back muscles a bit, before repositioning the couch against the wall (Chie had forgotten to). He sat back on the hard cushions, just like he had been before, staring blankly where his television used to be.

He sneered.

She'd be back again next week.


	12. Business: Chie, Adachi

**More Chie and Adachi. I don't know what I was on when I was writing this one.**

**WARNING: I have no idea if this one pushes that T rating a bit far, since I'm not really describing anything, but if I need to change the rating, please tell me.**

**AGAIN, THIS ONE'S A BIT DARK...ER.**

**Business  
**

She was supposed to be here on business. Official _police_ business. And yet as soon as she had walked into his apartment, she was on him like a rapid animal. He had tussled with her, if only to ensure his place on top, and it bothered her that she hadn't fought back as much as she wanted to. And now he was touching places and she was suffocating, with no place to go but deeper into herself, where everything was trying to break free of the chains she had put them in. She had told him through angry, gritted teeth that she hated him, and he had laughed mercilessly as he told her to just imagine it was Souji Seta, and not Tohru Adachi. And as her mind kept trying to picture Souji's smiling face and gentle strokes, everything contradicted too much. The fantasy wasn't mixing right with the reality. And so she gave up on pretending, and just cried as she realized deep down that she was so damn happy. She was so disgusted with herself for being this relieved that someone, it didn't matter who, was doing this to her, with her, whatever _this_ was.

She laid there and cried, because she didn't ever want it to be anyone other than Souji, and most especially not him. But she was desperate for some open attention from the opposite gender, the way all the boys she knew seemed to be with Yukiko and Rise and even Naoto. If anyone cared for her, they didn't show it good enough. Beggars couldn't be choosers. And she was surely a beggar in this respect. And still she could feel deep down, her monster was being satiated, and no matter how disgusting she felt, or how awful she felt that she was betraying everyone's trust, she was so happy. So happy she could die.

Even after he was finished, he kept telling her the most beautiful, eloquent lies she's ever heard, complimenting her more and more in a sickly sweet tone as they just laid on his cold, hard, wooden floor. "You know, some people like girls who are soft and supple under the fingertips. But your structure is much better suited for the rough stuff. I mean, damn. Your muscle tone better accentuates everything." It was filthy, what he was saying, and he was saying it so kindly, as if he was actually the person they'd all thought him to be. But something carnal in her appreciated it. She didn't believe any of it either. He was saying it only to mock her, and all those times she had said she was better than him and all the times where she had thought he was lowly and disgusting for what he'd done were all coming back to haunt her as she lie next to him with her shorts down.

She sat up, pulled on all clothing that had been previously discarded, and checked the apartment for dangerous items, as was her job. He watched her as she did this dull task, taunting her by pointing out places she'd missed checking. He was probably feeling really great about himself and how much better and more of a person than _she_ was, but she didn't care. She just wanted to leave now. She had gotten what she'd really come here for. She checked his bedroom, ignoring the fact that his smell of cheap cologne and deodorant and something _else_ was thickest in here.

When she came back, he was back on his couch, like nothing had happened. He was giving her one of those smiles that he used to wear before he became the hated person he was, back when he was a cop. It was dopey and nonchalantly whimsical, and she wanted to smack him for being such an outright liar.

He had never removed his pants. He never needed to. She was done before he even got him belt unbuckled. She never seemed to realize this fact until after everything had been finished. She knew he didn't need anything from her. He wasn't only in it to mock her and torture her mentally, but sometimes she wished some drop of kindness really felt for her plight. It was her own little fantasy in her dark, dark world. Because she obviously needed him for this disgusting, shameless act, and he probably feels a lot better about himself in comparison to her while doing whatever it is he does to her.

"Same time next week, right Chie?" His voice was so real and sweet, she'd be a fool to believe whatever genuine kindness she'd heard from it.

She left, her walls of insecurity crumbling and rebuilding themselves in a constant loop of confused feelings of hatred, lust, and shame.


	13. Trust: Souji, Adachi

**Trust**

Souji has never been one to beat around the bush when it came to self-examination. He was all too aware of how everyone thought of him, and deep down he was really bothered about it. Why did everyone adore him the way they did? Why did they think of him as some sort of indestructible tower? His questions were never answered, and yet he still pondered how he'd suddenly become the man to hang with.

Sometimes it was all too much. He wasn't some wise man to confess their sins to, yet they all relied on him to help them solve their problems and keep them emotionally stable. Sometimes being the one to carry the burden was just too daunting of a task, and he wished he was strong enough to throw it all off. And so he quietly resented it as Yosuke cried on and on over Saki Konishi, despite his obvious feeling for Chie, whom was trying but failing to be subtle with her affection to their awesome leader. He was spiteful as Yukiko dragged him from the grocery store to the shrine and back, telling him how shy she usually was and such, and how Rise and her were both so indecisive about their futures. He wanted to just smack Kanji and tell him to just do what he loves, and though Naoto's little mystery had been a fun past time, he wanted to shake her so badly, just to get some sort of emotion out of her. It was all so tiring, and the fact that they never really bothered listening to his problems while they whined about theirs made him hate it even more.

Everyone treated him the same way. They depended on him. He watched them all cry and die inside, saw their better halves and the sides of them they'd never show anyone else. He just needed someone to talk to who didn't feed on his inability to say "no".

He tapped the call button on the third emergency number on his phone (the first was his uncle's cell and the second was the home phone at the Dojima residence). The ring was slow as he began making his way toward the shady end of the shopping district, where the low-scale apartments stood against the sun, while fiery bolts peeked from behind as the sun began to set. There was a click, and a mellow voice greeted him.

"Hey, can I come over. Just wanna chat."

"Sure, Seta-san," Tohru Adachi said on the other line, "Got a lot on your mind then?"

"Yeah," He hung up.

His uncle had given him this number if he himself wasn't reachable. Dojima trusted Adachi. Maybe Souji could trust him too.


	14. Whipped: Yosuke, Chie

**Nothing really "mature" about this, right?**

**Whipped**

He dreams about them every night, both Saki and Chie. It always starts with Sempai, dressed in white in the school hallway, and she says she'll forgive him if he closes his eyes. He always does, even though he's experienced the dream twenty times over. He can hear her soft laughter, and feels a gentle caress over his eyes. But then everything seems to morph and he can tell that Saki is gone from his dream, and a dark, towering silhouette is covering his eyes with a smirk on their face. And he's sitting on what feels like cold stone, and he begs for Saki to forgive him, despite the fact that he knows she's no longer there and probably doesn't care. The towering figure laughs at him in a familiar high-pitched voice that makes his skin crawl and his spine shiver, yet he enjoys the feeling.

Chie's Shadow sneers at him and remarks how pathetic he is as she leans in close enough that Yosuke can smell her. Of course, she smells like meat; like the dead, rotting corpses of all of her followers and slaves and stooges who fell for her spunky charm and naturally candid personality. Yet he does not retch. He refuses to pull away. He doesn't have to see to know that she is readying the whip, taunting him by saying he needs to grow a pair. He can feels naked even though his clothes are on, and he doesn't feel ashamed, because he thinks he _loves_ this girl, and he knows that he must accept all sides of her, including this one.

She cracks the harsh leather down and he's dangerously close to opening his eyes, but he steels himself and endures every lashing and what each one means. Some part of him knew that each lash was for every day he never told her how freaking amazing she was, or how hot she looked, or how much better she was than all those other girls. He bites his lip and takes everything she has to throw at him, his clothes torn at the back where she unleashed her pent-up rage, until she cackles as the stinging sensation engulfs and suffocates him, "Yosuke, you're so _whipped_!"

He always wakes with a start, before rushing to the bathroom to take a long, cold shower.


	15. Fantasy: Adachi, Souji

**Fantasy**

Adachi doesn't think he's hated anyone as much as he does Souji Seta. It's not because he's the "hero", but because of how everyone else treats him, as if he was some sort of God, when he's obviously not. He has this mysterious air about him that makes all those dumb girls swoon at the slightest comment from him, and it makes Adachi sick.

He hates him. He wants to rub that smug kid's face in the hard gravel at Magatsu Inaba, stomp on his delicate, skinny fingers and shoot him straight through the heart. He sometimes imagines that he's fighting Souji in the TV World, and that he beats him. In his mind's eyes, he fantasizes about lifting poor, noble Souji by his bangs as he's crumpled on the ground after his defeat, and he can see perfectly that holier-than-thou glare as Adachi looks down at what a wretch he is, to show him he isn't this grand hero that's going to save the day.

It was his own, secret fantasy, one which he relived every day. Each daydream was a spectacular, epic battle between him and the silverette, and in his mind he was always the inevitable, indisputable winner.


	16. Worry: Yosuke, Chie, Adachi

**Worry**

Yosuke feels like something's different about her. He rarely gets to see her, but when he does, it's obvious she's become a bit… colder. She doesn't smile much anymore, and she seems to be more interested in work and training than anything else, even Yukiko. Frankly, Yosuke's never been more worried about her.

He knows something up. She acts a bit harsher; she's bolder than before, and more easily aggravated. She always leaves earlier than anyone else, and he knows she isn't at home because he goes to her house to check. He's pretty sure that she's at the police station doing her job, but something nagging feeling in his gut is telling him that she's not, and it's eroding him from the inside just from his curiosity.

And so he asks her.

"I'm around. You don't have to worry. Besides, you're not my keeper, Yosuke."

It's an answer, but she's saying nothing. He's about to ask her to elaborate, when he spots him. A shaded figure in a yellow rain coat, a blinking bracelet unsubtly placed on his ankle. Adachi smiles and waves at Yosuke with a pleasant, "Hello, Hanamura-san," Yosuke wants to spit in his face and throw him into the concrete, but instead he just clenches his fist, as well as his jaw. Chie does not seem to notice him, but then the ex-detective smiles at her too, only this time in a way that made the Junes heir very uncomfortable. "Hey, Chie," Just the absence of the "-san" was enough to raise a red flag, but the fact that he was using her first name alarmed Yosuke. He stared at her expectantly, wondering when and how she'd react. But to his horror, she merely glanced at him, before walking in the opposite direction.

His brain hurt from confusion and shock, and he felt physically ill at the memory of how Adachi had looked at her. It was a look of ownership and false-adoration, full of barely subtle disrespect and arrogance, but the reasons behind what he'd seen weren't forming in his brain. There was a connection there. Something that they shared that no one else knew. He felt a growing anxiety bloom in his chest as he sat in front of his television, wishing it would act as his crystal ball and give him the answers he sought.

Then again, why would it, when all it's done is bring him misery.


	17. Wounds: Souji, Adachi

**Wounds**

When Souji comes home from the Void Quest, he has an ugly gash on his cheek and shoulder that even Yukiko couldn't heal. It was not surprising that the wound did not escape the eyes of his family as they celebrated the end of the investigation together with Adachi.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Souji scrambled for an answer, but Dojima kept throwing questions at him. "Where you mugged? Hit by a car? Answer me, Souji!" Nanako is applying the ointment because she insists she do so, while Adachi is staring at him with a sympathetic smile. He pulls a story out of his ass about him falling at the riverbank. He's surprised they bought the story.

Despite the commotion over his injuries, the feast of sushi goes smoothly. The father and daughter are discussing something she did at school. Souji enjoys a simple tuna sashimi, but he almost chokes as Adachi starts to bring up a conversation, "You must have been playing some sort of game to stumble that hard. Like an old-school brawl, huh?" Souji stares at him, but the young detective has this goofy grin that makes Souji want to believe him.

"Nah. Nothing too serious." Is his polite answer. Adachi chuckles grimly as he says, "Nothing too serious my foot. It looks like you were bashed in the face with a giant sword or something." It was such a dead-on statement. He looked into Adachi's eyes; they were unreadable. A detective wouldn't bother with something like the Midnight Channel anyways. He laughed, as if what Adachi said was a really brilliant joke. The mood become light again, but something dark squirms in Souji's gut as Adachi leaves the house later that night. Nanako and Dojima are in bed. He walks the detective to the door.

"You might want to get that looked at," Adachi says jovially, "And you probably should stop whatever it is you're doing to get cuts like that." Souji didn't know what to say as he opened the door, watching Adachi pull on his beat up Rockport shoes.

"I mean," the detective continues, stepping through the open door, "Is whatever you're doing really worth it to make your uncle and cousin worry like that? It can't be that important."

At this moment in time, Souji does not understand why the older man said "important" when "fun" would have been a better word to suit his lie. He cannot help but try and calculate what Adachi might be thinking. His smile as he turns to leave is different, less naive and much more meaningful; the light from the streetlamps casts a shadow like a mask over Adachi's face, and the dark feeling in his gut deepens, but he disregards all these warnings as his tired mind playing tricks on him. The man walks away as the fog begins to set over the town of Inaba.


End file.
